Don't Let Go of Faith
by symmetryfreak88
Summary: After the outbreak happened when visiting America, Irishwoman Anya Donnell gets separated from her brother and pregnant sister-in-law. She soon pairs with the main group and helps them as much as possible. Though the questions still remains inside her: Will she ever find her brother and his wife, and will she be able to survive with this group? [May change title later on.]
1. Prologue

**Hello, Hello! This is my first fan fiction for The Walking Dead. I haven't decided if this will be a Character/Oc story. Nevertheless, any sort of feedback is greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the main characters**

**Also, I apologize for my oc's speech; It was an attempt to write an accent for her ^^"**

Prologue

The day was like any other in the southern part of America; the sun protruded out, but not enough for one to die of the heat. The young Irish woman stepped out of the rented Volkswagen Golf and into the light, standing across from the enriched home. She drew a deep breath before stepping to the door, knocking before waiting for someone to answer.

Soon enough, she was greeted by a familiar face that she had come to know in the past few years; another young woman not older than she, with brunette hair tied into a braid and fair, healthy skin. She bore her a smile, hugging her as the Southern drawl in her voice came out as smooth as silk.

"Anya, long time no see!" she greeted as she pulled away, calling to her husband in the other room, making him aware of their visitor. "Come on in!" she motioned the other woman to enter the home.

"Thanks, Rachelle. 'Tis nice to see you as well." Anya muttered, stepping into the living room to meet her counterpart, Kian. The male barely had time to react before Anya tackled him on the couch. He grunted softly at the sudden weight being distributed on him by his twin.

"Ye missed me that much, lass?" Kian asked in a light yet sarcastic Irish tone, trying to push her off.

"What gave ye that idea?" Anya replied in the same matter, this time with a hearty chuckle before pushing herself off. Kian got up after her, ruffling the top of her scarlet-colored hair as he looked down at her with the same light green eyes.

"Come on then, we've got much to tell." Rachelle told the two, motioning them to a different room to talk.

* * *

"So, do ye know the gender? Names? Anythin'?" Anya asked quickly, unable to hide enthusiasm about an addition to their family. To this, the couple laughed as they heard the young woman ramble.

"The doctor told us it's a girl, but we haven't decided on a name yet." Rachelle sighed contently, gently placing a hand over her stomach where their expected baby would be. Anya smiled at this; she felt happy for the two having a child. Though, with the rumors of some government project flowing about, she was also worried about it's life.

She knew almost nothing about what things American government could do, but she had known very little about something the Irish was planning as well. She also heard stories of a virus spreading; no one knew the cause, or what it could do. That's not the only thing that scared Anya; she was also scared for her niece to come, and what her life would be depending on the circumstances.

Though despite all of this, she kept her smile as she discussed other things about their plans for the baby with the wedded couple, occasionally letting her eyes fall to Rachelle's stomach from time to time. Noticing this, Rachelle smiled gently at her. "I can see you're excited to be an aunt."

"Ay, ye'd make a good aunt, Anya." Kian added in agreement. They talked of other things, but Anya's attention was around the room; supplies, ammunition, weapons, food. The things that were necessary to survive and keep their baby alive if these rumors were true.

_If. _Anya silently hoped that these weren't true; that whatever this was would blow over so Kian and Rachelle could raise their child in the best environment possible. Though, despite her attempts to stay positive, she had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be that simple.

* * *

Destruction. Chaos. Gunshots. Bloodcurdling screams. This is what the three woke up to about less than a week later. Anya ran to the window to see what the matter was; she wished she hadn't. She wished that this was all just a dream, and that she would wake up to a normal world.

But she knew that this wasn't some nightmare she would be able to wake up from. She knew this, as she watched cars crash and people die just outside the window. She saw many, young and old, injured and dead on the streets.

Though, that wasn't the worst of it; she saw people – If they could be considered to be people now – sinking their teeth into other human's flesh. Anya shook her head in disbelief as she watched an American woman crushed under the weight of a car on it's side. One of those _things_ knelt down and started eating her alive. She felt her stomach churn as she watched blood spout of the woman, creating a pool as others joined in to feast on her flesh.

Anya was finally snapped out of this trance when Kian shook her, yelling at her that they had to move. Along with Rachelle, she grabbed clothes from the closet, along with guns, knives, her bow and arrows and other weapons. In a panic of her brother and sister-in-law not surviving, she told them to leave right then.

"We ain't leavin' without ye!" Kian protested, holding on to his wife as he tried to pull Anya along. She pulled away, shaking her head.

"I'll be fine. Jist git out av 'ere! I'll catch up witcha two!" Anya exclaimed, giving the two a tight hug before urging them to get out. The couple exchanged looks before nodding and grabbing what they needed.

"Let's try to meet in Atlanta. There's supposed to be a safe zone there." Rachelle suggested. They all agreed to this, saying their goodbyes before the couple climbed into Rachelle's maroon Ford pickup.

Anya ran through the house, scrambling to stuff food and other necessities into duffel bags before heading to the Golf and getting in. She struggled with the ignition for a moment or two before finally getting it started, speeding through the streets.


	2. Chapter 1

Anya didn't entirely know how long she had been driving; she only knew it was long enough for the sun to go down as darkness gradually enveloped the sky. She ran a hand through her hand as she drove, sighing. She hoped that, wherever she was going, she could find Kian and Rachelle before anything got worse.

These thoughts stuck to her as she drove subconsciously: where could they be now? Could they have actually made it to Atlanta? Or had they gotten into some sort of traffic jam on the way? Questions raced through her brain for what seemed to her like an eternity of uncertainty.

Her daze came at an abrupt halt as she suddenly saw one of those creatures passing in front of her. In a panic, she slammed on the gas, but not long before she lost control of the wheel. The Golf spun wildly, rolling off the highway before it was flipped on it's side. Anya let out a grunt as she was jerked every way possible.

When the destruction finally ceased, she sat frozen for a moment, as if paralyzed as the lights flickered inside and outside the car. She didn't get over the initial whiplash and dizziness before she heard the sound of the creature trying to get in through the driver's side window. She certainly didn't plan to risk trying to rush past it to get out.

She looked back to the backseat door, relived there was only one wanting to attempt to bite her. She managed to undo her seatbelt and gradually pulled herself to the car door, taking one of the knives she brought out. After struggling for a moment, she forced it open, slowly crawling out to make as minimal noise as possible.

Despite this, the thing noticed her movements and began to stalk towards her, moaning in hunger as blood spilled down it's chin. Luckily, she forced her self out quick enough to get up on her feet and retaliate. She pushed it down on the side of the car before jabbing the knife into it's skull. It's moaning and grunting slowly dissipated as it finally died – for a second time – and slumped on the ground.

Anya wiped the now blood-stained knife on her pant leg, noticing that some of it had caked onto her hand as well. She sighed, trudging over to the trunk. She was well aware she couldn't open it the normal way, deciding to stab the glass until it finally shattered.

She quickly grabbed what she could carry, including her bow and arrows before staring out into the seemingly endless highway. "Time to start walkin'" she mumbled to herself as she began to stagger away from the abandoned car.

* * *

Anya didn't have to go far before she saw the evident rows of cars jammed amongst one another. As she stumbled through, she saw many people that had set up camp chairs or sat in the trunks of their vehicles. She felt sorry for them all, but she was mostly wondering if Kian and Rachelle were anywhere in this mess.

She eventually went as far as to see one black car – she wasn't aware of the make and model – inhabited by a tan looking man with dark hair. Along with him was a woman with lighter hair perched on top of the hood.

She contemplated not speaking to them and continuing on her way. Though, another part of her died to know if they had seen her brother and his wife. She also wanted to know what exactly was going on. She finally decided to approach the man to ask, adjusting the position of her bag on her shoulder and clearing her throat.

"Sorry to 'assle ye, but do ye know what the 'ell is goin' on?" she inquired. The man looked up from the radio in the car, looking up at her. He stared, as if she'd asked the craziest thing in the world. "'Ow did this all 'appen?"

"Hell if I know." Replied the man, looking back and forth from her to the radio. "All I know is that traffic's been jammed for a while now." The woman suddenly walked over as Anya stepped back for them to talk.

"You gettin' anything?" she asked him, referring to the radio. The man shook his head at the car radio.

"There's nothin'." He muttered to her, which was no surprise to the woman. The man mentioned that there were nothing about any refugee camps or anything. Anya paid close attention to their conversation, but said nothing.

Her focus then switched to two children with a husband and wife couple; the wife was small in figure, with short gray hair and pale skin. The husband, much more large in size, had a five o'clock shadow and spoke in a deep voice. Anya could tell there was much dysfunction in the marriage, judging by the way the man shut the door when the wife tried to get the children food.

As Anya approached, she saw the woman go around and bring the kids something as a substitute. As the woman was about to give it away, Anya quickly came to stop her. "Save it for later. I 'ave somethin' for 'em." She offered.

"Are you sure? You don't have to give anything up if you don't want." The woman inquired in a concerned tone. Anya nodded back with a slight smile, digging in her bag to find two bags of cheddar fish crackers. She handed the bags to the children, both expressing their thanks as they opened them and began to eat.

"Thank you so much!" the dark haired woman said sincerely. She introduced herself as Lori; Anya guessed that the young boy in the group was her son. Lori silently studied her carefully before speaking again. "Hey, do you two mind keepin' an eye on Carl for a minute?" she asked Anya and the other woman. They both nodded before the other looked down at Carl.

"Shane and I are gonna go scout up ahead, and see if we can find someone who knows what's going on."

"I want to go with you." Carl stated, looking up at his mother. She shook her head before placing a kiss on the boy's head. The man, now known as Shane, stepped up to Carl as well.

"Hey, we'll be back before you know it. Okay, lil' man?" he told him before leaving with Lori. The remaining group stayed silent before Carl spoke up, looking up at Anya.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked, trying to start a conversation with Anya. "I can tell it by your accent. Where you from?"

Anya hesitated for a brief moment before answering his sudden question. "Belfast, Ireland. Born an' raised." It seemed that she was the new source of interest, since the woman, who had introduced herself as Carol, spoke next.

"What made you come to the States?" she asked, shifting slightly.

"I came down to see me brother an' 'is wife." She replied slowly, "I don't assume thar's any chance you've seen 'em?" she asked, in hopes of finding an answer. However, she took their silence as a way of saying 'no'.

The subject was quickly changed when Carol's daughter, Sophia, spoke to Carl. "Your dad seems really nice." She told him.

Carl merely looked up at her, frowning. "Shane's not my dad." He stated simply, "My dad's dead…" Anya frowned at this as well; not only was the kid stuck in this godforsaken place, but he'd also lost his father. She felt pity for the boy.

Her thoughts were interrupted once more as everyone heard a loud sound that could be heard by everyone in sight. Carol held the kids closer as Anya looked around. Fights were already breaking out amongst the civilians in the traffic jam.

Anya didn't even have to go to where Shane and Lori were to know that the so called "safe place" wasn't open for business.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello! Sorry for the long time to update; I was busy with school and stuff.**

**Though, I won't be able to update from the 20****th**** on, since I'm going on vacation.**

**Don't worry though ^^ I'll try to update as much as I can while I'm on break, and I'll write more when I'm off and will update as soon as I come back. I would like to thank ****toomanyfandomssolittletime****, ****SeverusSnape'sLove****, and ****Crystal Forest**** for giving positive feedback. And Crystal, thank you for convincing me to put this story up^^**

**You guys should check out her story ****Have Hope****, and its sequel, ****Turmoil**

**Anywho, on with the story! And I apologize for the short chapter, I promise the next ones will be longer!**

Between the world going to hell and staying with the fairly new group she had found, Anya hadn't bothered to keep track of time herself. She had guessed that it had been a few months, maybe more. Though, she knew it was long enough that she had been able to survey most of the other members, and learn a few things about them.

Firstly, there was Dale, one of the ones to keep his morality since the world collapsed. He was the oldest of the group, being in his sixties. His age could be fairly distinguished, from his white hair and bald spot. With talking to him, Anya found that he used to have a wife that had died from cancer, and that he had rescued Amy and Andrea before being part of the group. Anya respected him not only for his wise personality, but also for keeping a level head during these times.

Amy and Andrea were the type of sisters that had a tight bond, despite their large age differences. Though, Anya learned that it wasn't always like this; Andrea had told her of the times she wouldn't come to see Amy, which earned her resentment from the other. Anya guessed that the two only began to bond just before the apocalypse.

Then there was Lori, now a single mother raising Carl, her only son. Apparently, she had been married to a police officer who had been shot down and sent into a never-ending coma. The husband, known as Rick, had died in the hospital according to Shane, whom had worked with him. To Anya, if she weren't suspected to be shagged by Shane, she may have viewed her as an honest woman. Despite this, she still kept closest to her, seeing that they had almost similar fates.

Carol was one of the other women of the camp, who was very humble and kind in Anya's eyes. She was another survivor at the camp that she had highly respected, even dealing with her abusive husband and raising her daughter. As for Ed himself, Anya loathed him to her very core; not only for his abusive habits towards Carol and Sophia, but being an overall drunken ass. Shane often dealt with him, which was perfectly fine for Anya; she would have done much worse if it had been her.

The rest she had remembered simply by name, not finding much about them or where they came from. But this was fine with her; she wouldn't ask unless they decided they wanted to share. Though, among those many acquaintances, there were few that she felt needed a swift kick in the arse.

Nevertheless, she bit her tongue, helping with the daily chores. The group often rotated, so that no one was stuck with one job. Anya mostly took to helping with laundry and teaching the children (to lessen the load on Lori.) She would also occasionally hunt –if the powers that be let her – to at least have some food at the end of the day.

Hunting. That was what she had been doing from quite some time in the dim woods as she surveyed the trees. Quietly stepping further in, to not attract anything unwelcome, she watched for anything to catch. That is, until she saw a squirrel on one of them; it sat alone in the tree, nibbling innocently on nuts and berries it had scavenged.

Anya pursed her lips as she nodded to herself, tightening her grip on her 29"recurve bow. She silently retrieved an arrow from the quiver on her back, carefully mounting it on the arrow rest and nocking it.

'_Steady now.'_ She thought, her breathing hushed as she pulled the string a few inches from her chin.

"_Don't move." _She barely mouths, keeping her eyes on the oblivious squirrel in front of her. She aims the arrow to her target before eventually letting go of the string. The arrow flew, a soft thud sounding on the ground before the wood became silent once more.

Anya smirked slightly as she walked towards her kill, picking it up by the tail and slowly pulling the bloody arrow out. She tied it off on a rope of half a dozen others that hugged her waist like a belt. She looked up at the darkening sky, sighing to herself. Deciding to head back before it became too dark, she put her arrow back into its sheath before sauntering back to the camp.

* * *

"Looks like you made it out alright, as usual." Dale said to Anya, sitting by her as she allowed the meat to cook over the open fire. She chuckled at his statement, glancing up at him before returning her attention to cooking.

"Sounds to me ye don't 'ave faith in me." She joked lightly. She studied the meat carefully, seeing that it was done. With the help of Lori, she managed to serve everyone their meals; minus the Dixon brothers, to which she saved meat for them when they came.

They all sat in silence for quite some time, though nobody seemed to mind; there really wasn't much to say. That is, until Glenn –who had been sitting next to Anya—finally decided to create a conversation.

"So uh…Anya, right?" he started awkwardly, looking to Anya as to silently ask if he was correct.

"Aye."

"What did you think of America, you know, before all this?" he asked quietly. Anya slightly raised an eyebrow as the attention of the group was now on her. It made her feel odd, all this attention. She silently wondered why they were so interested in getting to know her, nonetheless finally mustering up the courage to answer the Korean-American.

"I thought it was nice." She stated simply, "A good place to live an' make a decent income."

"Did you come often to see your brother?"

"Aye, when I could."

"What was Belfast like?" the questions from Glenn seemed endless.

"'Ey, slow down there! Why don't ye save some of those for a later time, eh?" Anya responded, with a chuckle from some of the others. Glenn nodded shifting guiltily. "Aw, lighten up. I was only jokin'" she laughed, nudging him. This earned a small smile from Glenn, before they all fell silent again.


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello again! I'm really really sorry for not updating when I got back. I was busy with school and Girl Scout related things. However, I do promise to update as often as I can, and try not to get writer's block ^^**

**Thank you all for sticking around and reading this fanfic. It really does mean a lot to me that I can share my writing with people that really enjoy it.**

* * *

It was some time during the afternoon; the smoldering sun beat down on the run-down, walker infested city of Atlanta, Georgia. Supplies had run low at the camp, so a few members volunteered to go out and scavenge. The group consisted of Glen, T-Dog, Andrea, Morales, Jacqui, Merle and Anya.

Anya had silently sighed in disdain when Merle had opted to come; he, of anyone, needed some sense nocked into him. He would always produce snarky comments to everyone; sometimes even racial slurs directed to both her and T-Dog.

That was her reasoning to staying as far away from him as she possibly could, going through the alley ways with Glen. When they had the chance, they would have small conversations to kill the silence.

"So, I know a lot of the others already asked you this," he started, "But why exactly did you come to America shortly before the dead started rising?"

"For me brother." She sighed, before making eye contact with him. "'E moved 'ere not too long ago after marryin' 'is wife. 'Tis funny, ye'd never imagine a couple like that ever tyin' th' knot."

"Why's that? Don't like her?"

"Not that; I love 'er like I love me bother. 'Tis just…" she paused, "I'd never imagine two people with different personalities bein' able to be together."

Glen smiled at her, chuckling. "Opposites really do attract in that sense, I guess." They walked into another building, looking for anything useful.

"What about you? What's yer story?" she asked as she searched the cabinets, grabbing every candy bar in sight and stuffing them in her bag.

"Grew up in Michigan, moved to Atlanta some years ago." He responded, finding a few supplies. "I was a pizza delivery guy before all this."

Anya held back a snicker as they headed back out, going over to the next area. However, Anya stopped, looking over to see someone on a horse. From what she could tell, he was wearing a police uniform, with a bag slung over his shoulder. She stood still, watching; she wanted to yell out to him to get out of the open, but that would lead to trouble.

It wasn't long before Walkers started to surround him, as the horse bucked in fear, sending him down to the ground. Anya felt a sigh of relief for the man escape her own lips as the man made his way into the safety of the parked tank. She went to take out her walkie-talkie to try to connect to him, but Glen beat her to it.

"Hey, you. Dumbass. Yeah, you in the tank. Cozy in there?" He spoke with a hint of what Anya guessed was sarcasm into the walkie-talkie. After no response, he tried again. "Hey, are you alive in there?"

"_Hello? Hello?_" a fearful voice asked.

"There you are. You had us wondering." Glen replied. Anya stared down at the Walkers feeding on the horse below.

"_Us_? _Where are you? Outside? Can you see me right now?"_

"Yeah, we can see you. You're surrounded by Walkers. That's the bad news."

"_There's good news?" _

"What do ye think?" Anya replied sarcastically, taking the walkie-talkie from Glen for a moment.

"_Listen, whoever you are, I don't mind telling you I'm a little concerned in here._" The voice took a more assertive tone.

"Ye should see it out 'ere where we're standin'. Ye'd better believe you're up shit's creek."

"_Got any advice for me?_"

She gave the walkie-talkie back to Glen, letting him speak to the stranger again. "Yeah, I'd say make a run for it."

"_That's it? 'Make a run for it?'_" he asked in disbelief.

"It ain't as dumb as it sounds, ye know. Ye'd better listen to 'im." Anya pointed out to him.

"There's one geek still up on the tank, but the others went down to join the feeding frenzy where the horse went down." Glen rambled into the walkie-talkie, trying to make the man see his side. "You with me so far?"

"_So far._"

"Okay, the street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If you move now while they're distracted, you stand a chance. You got ammo?"

"_In that duffel bag I dropped out there, and guns. Can I get to it?_"

"Forget it, it ain't an option." Anya replied to him. "What do ye 'ave on ye at the moment?"

"_Hang on,_" The man replied; there was a brief silence before he spoke again, "_I got a berretta with one clip. Fifteen rounds._"

"Make them count." Glen instructed in a stern tone, "Jump out of the right side of the tank, and keep going that direction. There's an alley up the street, maybe fifty yards, be there."

"_Hey, what are your names?_" he asked.

"Now it not the time! Get goin'!" Anya ordered. Soon enough, the man made his way out of the tank, following Glen's instructions as Glen went down to meet him.

…At least, before the man started to shoot rounds one by one.

Anya grumbled under her breath as she ran down with Glen to the alley. The shooting became louder as the man came closer to the designated spot. It wasn't until he finally saw Glen, whom he held at gunpoint for a brief moment.

"Woah! Not dead!" Glen exclaimed, as he shut the gate and ran, Anya and the man following him. The man continued to shoot until they had reached a ladder to the roof; Anya followed the two men, only stopping for a brief moment when a Walker grabbed her ankle. She quickly kicked it away, scrambling to meet the two at a railing halfway up.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood." Glen remarked sarcastically, "You the new sherriff? Come riding in to clean up the town?"

"Wasn't my intention." The man replied, panting.

Anya scoffed, "Yeah, yeehaw." She grunted. "You're still an imbicile."

The man suddenly held out his hand for the two to shake, "Rick, thanks."

"Glen, you're welcome." Glen replied, shaking his hand.

Anya smiled slightly as Rick turned to her. She shook his hand firmly, before introducing herself. "Anya."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but…Scottish or Irish?" he asked, fearing he would offend her in some way.

"Irish." She laughed.


End file.
